


All The Children Sang Of Revolution

by akingdomofunicorns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bigotry & Prejudice, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, It will get darker with time, Multi, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akingdomofunicorns/pseuds/akingdomofunicorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves: will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?<br/>—Troy</p><p>(In which there is no Chosen One.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Children Sang Of Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> There used to be a fic called Cock It and Pull It, the original version of All The Children, but some years ago I decided to rewrite it and leave out the Crossover Part of it for another time, and another fic. So here's the new version, much more polished, much more thought out, too. Enjoy this Epic and arm yourselves with patience, because it has taken me more than a year to write this chapter.

_And the stars, do they suffer as we do?_

_Are they such fragile cruel things?_

_Or are they kinder in their survival?_

_Gently, I suppose._

_P.D._

Lily knew what her next step had to be. Sitting near the lake, not so far away from where Severus had insulted her, she had spent the last two hours in silence, waiting. She was not quite sure of what she was waiting for, but she knew she had to wait —anytime now, the truth would hit her in the face, and she’d find herself free to stand up, stretch her sore limbs and go back to bed with the new found knowledge that she was, unfortunately and for good, short of a best friend. Anytime now, she’d find herself ready to tell Severus Snape goodbye. Lily Evans was a smart girl —impulsive and foolish at times, yes, like every other Gryffindor before her, she believed, but smart nonetheless— and she knew when to quit a lost cause or when, to embellish such harsh words, to abandon a sinking ship.

Her heart, however, did not seem as willing to let go of Severus as her brain insisted on doing. She was starting to get a headache —a big, fat one, full of stabs at her temples and this annoying beep in her ears— and she felt rather cold, with only her robes and her scarf to keep her body warm. She had dipped her toes in the lake just the day before, but at the moment, with the moon shining bright and yellow over her head, the air felt cold on her skin.

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans.”

Lily jumped in her seat and turned around. Just because she had been waiting for something, didn’t mean that something had to turn into _someone_. And even less so into someone she knew well enough to know he was up to no good.

His dark hair shined almost blue under the moonlight as he advanced on her. She turned around again, ignoring his presence, but that didn’t stop him from taking a seat beside her. Sirius Black’s eyes sparkled with mischief, something that was not rare, but Lily had seldom seen that expression directed at her. They did not run in the same circle, Black and her, and although they’d known each other since they were children, he was not the kind of person she liked to hang out with. He was handsome, the most handsome boy in their year, but he had a wilderness in him, a mad streak to his smooth exterior that made her weary of his every word and action. Lily valued bravery, but Sirius was more reckless than anything, and anyone who was stupid enough to jump of a flying broom still ten feet in the air with a broken jaw to celebrate a Quidditch victory deserved to be feared.

“Don’t be like that, Evans,” he said upon seeing her furrow her brow, “just here to check on you. Saw you all lonely and thought you could use the company. C’mon, you can trust me on this, you’ll feel better with someone who’s as miserable as you.”

He smirked when he saw her hesitate. When she started to speak, he flashed her a grin and plopped down on the grass next to her.

“What is there to be miserable about in your life today?”

“Try more what isn’t there to be miserable about?” he asked, laughing. “Now, do you want to rage about Snivellus?”

Lily scoffed at the nickname, but felt compelled to reply.

“I’ve raged enough already, I think. More than enough, actually. I’m tired, exhausted. He is— was my best friend. Sort of like you and James, but less juvenile and more… I don’t know.”

Sirius sighed. When he did that, his whole demeanour changed. He did not look like Sirius Black, the arrogant arse who got away with way too much, a fifteen year old with too much passion in his bones; his smooth skin tensed at the edges, and his voice was filtered through his teeth like poisoned honey.

“I get it. You were close and then something snapped and suddenly things were different.”

“Yeah, something like that, yeah…”

“Story of my life, doll,” he said, moving to grab something from his cloak.

He came up with a silver flask. There was something engraved on one of the sides, but Lily was too far away, and it was too dark for her to be able to figure out what it was —or whether it said something. He took a sip from whatever it was, frowned, and passed it on to her.

The flask might have been expensive —there was no doubt it was, goblin-wrought, she was sure—, but the Firewhisky within was as cheap as it got, nothing like she’d tried at Alice’s, and nothing like the wines she’d tried at home, under the supervision of her parents. It wasn’t that she was a saint (a prude, perhaps, but not enough for her to be a saint), but she liked to be in control, she needed it, and alcohol just seemed like the easiest way to have everything end up going down the drain.

Sirius looked at her with a raised eyebrow, daring her to refuse. It was unnerving her, making her feel self-conscious and ridiculous. She didn’t need his approval, he was nothing to her. The smell was nauseating, strong and sharp. She imitated him, taking a small sip to taste it, and choked on it.

Sirius laughed and patted her on the back, his warm hand taking a few seconds afterwards to caress her between the shoulder blades. His hand didn’t remain there for long.

“Easy… Not used to it?”

“I only drink it with honey or cola,” she managed to get out between coughs.

“You have to live life on the spot, Evans, that’s corrupting a perfectly good thing.”

“I hardly think this is any good,” she whined, chest still burning.

Sirius shrugged, not the least impressed with her pout, and took the flask from her to gulp down a generous amount of alcohol in one swing.

“If you want to forget about Snape being a git, you’ll drink it just fine.”

She wrinkled her nose as he offered her the flask again, but accepted it nonetheless.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

Sirius shrugged and cradled the flask in his hands when she passed it to him. Lily was starting to get really cold, even if the Firewhisky was warming her up inside in a weird way; it didn’t matter, though, she’d just catch a cold without realising it. Sighing, she tried to bring some feeling back to her arms with some friction, but she could hardly feel her hands anymore. She grabbed her wand from her pocket, fingers stiff and frozen, and casted a little fire in front of them. Her heart was beating numbly against her ribcage, and she found it more difficult than normal to perform that simple bout of magic, but that was to be expected. She was starting to feel a bit tipsy.

“Came out here to drink in peace, didn’t want to worry the lads.”

“I see,” she murmured, and tried to pat him on the back uncomfortably, just as he’d done before, but her attempts were clumsy. Sirius laughed at that, and looked at her intently. “What?” she asked, blushing.

“Nothing. It’s just that James likes you quite a bit.”

She had not thought possible to scoff and blush at the same time, but Sirius Black and James Potter were extraordinary men, it seemed, even if the latter wasn’t even present.

“Well, don’t worry, the holidays are just around the corner, so he’ll forget about me soon enough. Just like he forgot about Margot Gómez last year.”

“Jealous?”

Lily rolled her eyes.

“No, but Margot’s little sister is a bit of a gossip, so all the girls at Gryffindor Tower were tuned to that epic romance.”

Sirius nodded, though he didn’t look convinced.

“So,” he said, ignoring his friend’s last failed relationship, “is that why you won’t date him? Because you’re afraid he will forget about you during the course of the summer?”

It was her turn to sigh. She knew the conversation would turn to James Potter’s weird fixation with her. He fancied her, that was obvious, but she wasn’t sure how much of those feelings were for show —for the dramatics of it, for how the students would look at them all wonderstruck as he shouted his ridiculous propositions at her, as they bickered and flirted and ignored each other— and how much because he actually thought she was worth the chase. She wasn’t sure Potter himself knew the answer to that.

“No, not at all. I don’t want to go out with him because I don’t _like_ him like that. He’s a bit of a bully, you know —you lot all are, and not only to Sev- Snape, but to others as well—, and he’s only nice half the time, the other half he’s pretty mean for the sake of being funny.” She was not done, but she felt like she needed a drink to keep going. Sirius must have realised this and he passed the flask back to her. She was starting to feel light-headed and she realised with a start that it was almost empty. She was such a light-weight... “I know I tend to overreact in certain situations, but I’ve always felt protective of him, since we were children. I’ve known him for so long, too, that he was just a constant in my life. He’s been there through a lot and things at home aren’t all that nice and jolly, so… I mean, they’re not _bad_ , per se, but Petunia knows how to be hurtful, so…”

She was babbling now. How pathetic of her, the girl with a sister who hated her. That was rather sad, when she thought about it —being despised by one’s own kind. But then again Petunia wasn’t the only one who hated her, the whole wizarding world seemed set on keeping her away from her own magic. She could understand Petunia, she’d always been jealous, unforgiving and petty; but to think that grown and supposedly educated wizards saw her —Lily Evans, sixteen years of age, a witch, a young girl who’d done nothing but try to get an education, who’d done nothing but take what she deserved— as nothing more than a fraud, a greedy girl with a bit of luck on her side and a tad of stolen magic… It made her sick. She regretted mentioning Tuney’s name the same instant it slipped from her lips, and she had started to wonder if the words falling off her mouth were a product of Black’s Firewhisky or if she was just as pathetic as she felt, that she’d share such intimacies with a boy who wasn’t even her friend.

“Yeah, I have one of those, too,” Sirius said, cutting her train of thought, “Regulus, though you already know him —lovely fellow, blood purist to the core and really fucking racist. We used to be really close until I realised what a bunch of _snakes_ they all are. Now our relationship is a bit strained, it has gotten cold, you know… Can’t wait to get the fuck out of there.”

“I’d adopt you,” she joked, swinging the almost empty flask around and smiling bitterly, “but Petunia would probably smother you in your sleep.”

“Sweet. Who’s Petunia? Your pet rabbit?”

“My sister, idiot.”

Sirius groaned softly and took the flask from her hands.

“Did your parents actually think Petunia’s a good name for anyone? Do they _hate_ your sister?”

She let him have the last remains of the flask without putting up a fight (it was only fair after all, since he’d been so nice and shared it with her in the first place), though she suspected that, had she asked, he would not have minded terribly giving her the last few gulps. They stood up once there was nothing left for them to drink, and she found herself hugging his arm for balance, cheeks pink in her drunkenness, despite not being able to recall the exact moment in which she’d decided to throw all decorum to the wind.

“We should get going,” she managed to say, half giggling in embarrassment. “Thanks, Black, it was a nice chat.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing for no reason at all, too, just as flushed as her, “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

She rolled her eyes at him and, in response, he just grinned back at her.

“I know. A nice bloke like me can’t let a lovely damsel in distress such as yourself wonder around the castle all alone and in her cups.”

“Sweet,” she answered in the same tone he’d used. “You know —and don’t tell _anyone_ I’ve said this or I’ll have to off you— I actually don’t hate you lot as much as I have you believe. You’re just so bloody annoying. So, so annoying, Sirius Black, you and your lads. Well, that rhymed,” she added at last, as an afterthought, and had to stifle her laughter as they got to the Entrance Hall.

“Shh, Evans,” Sirius chastised, “don’t be silly.”

He was smiling though, quite pleased with the results of his Firewhisky. They made it to the Charms corridor laughing lightly over mindless chatter, but as they slowly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Lily felt her soul get heavy with dread. It was easy to not care as much about the whole Severus ordeal when it was dark and she was a bit drunk and Sirius Black was managing to make her laugh with his antics, but come tomorrow, everything would remain the same. The moment she stepped into the Common Room, she’d be drowned with feelings and regrets.

Her step faltered for a moment, but since she was still attached to Sirius’ arm, he pulled her with him, and the strength of his strides snapped her out of it before he got the chance to ask her what was wrong. She made an effort to look composed and happy —as composed as she could be while clumsily trying to keep up with Black— and kept going. But Sirius must have felt something was amiss, because the second the Portrait closed behind them, he stirred her in the direction of the couch before the fire and forced her to sit.

“Now—”

“I’m just so angry,” she spat before he got the chance to say anything more, “and I don’t know how…”

She couldn’t finish her thought, she didn’t think she was strong enough to put it into words, to make it real.

“You’re a strong bird, Evans, you’ll manage.”

“You all seem to think I’ll either shatter like a glass vase or that I’ll come out of this unscathed and stronger, somehow. It’s like I’m just a little heroine from everyone’s favourite book, but do I look like a tragedy to you, Black?”

“Blimey, Evans, you sure are the melodramatic type,” he managed to joke, before schooling his features into a frown, “but I don’t think you’re a tragedy. Perhaps an Epic? You’re a Jane Austen novel had she ever sent Lizzy Bennet to fight at Troy and sail with the Odyssey bloke, I think.”

“I haven’t the foggiest… Never mind,” she sighed at last.

“You’re surprised I know of all these Muggle things, aren’t you? But you forget I take Muggle Art with you, and that we’re both into Literature.”

“I haven’t forgotten, of course I haven’t.”

It was impossible to forget when he was always there, all intelligence and veiled superiority. The boy was a genius; he could understand Muggle concepts with an easiness that no other Pureblood she’d met possessed. Even some half-bloods fell short in comparison. She was jealous of every little word that fell of his lips while discussing Flaubert, but mostly she was just in awe with the inner workings of his brain —she wanted to pick it apart until there was nothing left for her to study, until she could grab at the core of his neurons and pour their knowledge into a little box. He had a way with words that made it seem easy, but in truth he was a master at twisting them and tweaking them until they occupied their right place in a sentence, and that sentence took its place next to the one before it, and gave way to the one to come, until his speech was just this little stand-alone piece that could very well hold the truth of our existence.

By then the high was mostly gone, and she was left with a pleasant buzz in her stomach and her face. It had been short and mild, in comparison to what could have been, had Sirius had a whole bottle with him and not some ridiculously snobbish flask.

“I suppose you haven’t,” he whispered, suddenly tired, “but that doesn’t really matter right now. It’s late, we should go to bed.”

Lily nodded.

“But before we part, you should know that you have a right to be angry, to _stay_ angry and rage for weeks, if you feel like it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, because we are only human, and we are fashioned to feel until our hearts bleed, and even then, we keep feeling. Be angry, because you have a right to, and because that sodding git deserves to have you furious at him. Be angry, Snivellus questioned your fucking right to exist, and I hope that makes you barking mad.”

Lily blinked, too stunned for words. But finally she managed to collect herself and risk a tiny smile.

“Sometimes you are wise, Black. I’m not sure I like it.”

“It’s because I’m a year older, I’m supposed to be wiser.”

“First of all,” Lily protested, “don’t be a condescending bum. And second, you’re only months older than me. I mean, if you’re from October… than that makes you three months older than me? Three months… I think that’s right, isn’t it?”

Sirius shrugged, “Don’t care, Evans, I’m still older than you, and therefore, wiser.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

“Alcohol makes you grumpy, I’m not sure I like it. Though it does make you swear, and that’s fascinating. Do it again.”

“Shut up, Black,” Lily laughed, blushing. “Just… Thank you, all right? You were very sweet, and you didn’t have to. I mean, I suppose you feel guilty for what happened yesterday, but thank you nonetheless. I liked that you gave me permission to be angry, no one had thought of doing that yet.”

Sirius nodded and stood up.

“I’m going to bed now, Evans,” he said, but didn’t move, “but…”

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Well, James feels guilty, too, you know. He regrets it very much but…”

Lily shrugged and fidgeted in her seat. Seeing this, Sirius stopped talking and raised an eyebrow. Lily shrugged again.

“Listen, Evans—”

“I know, all right? I know it wasn’t really your fault, that Sev had been this way for a long time now, _I know that_. But I’m a terrible person and I can’t help thinking that, I don’t know… I just…” Sirius sighed and made a gesture to sit down again, but Lily shook her head and continued, “Don’t, it doesn’t matter. We should both get to bed. I’ll just… I’ll try, okay? I promise, I’ll try, I’m not as bad as you lot think I am. You don’t need to make excuses for Potter, you both were bullying Snape, and that was wrong, but you did not point a wand at his neck and asked him to call me a mudblood.”

Sirius nodded, his face stony, but at the last moment he cracked a small smile, half genuine and half smirking attitude, and Lily was forced to smile back, although it pained her to do so —she didn’t feel much like smiling anymore, she only wanted to get under the warm covers of her bed and possibly stay there for the next two years, until it was time to graduate. She stood from the couch.

“Goodnight, Black.”

“Night, Evans.”

The silence gave her goose bumps as she waited for Sirius Black to disappear up the boy’s stairs. The last she saw of him were the tips of his hair, following his head into the darkness of the staircase. She remained where she was, near the flickering orange flames of the fireplace, inside a flash of light that made her hair seem lighter and more golden than it really was. It was time for her to go to bed, she was too tired to give it more thought; she’d deal with Severus in the morning, when she wasn’t feeling so confused and tired.

But as she started to climb the stairs, she found she couldn’t stop thinking of the boy who’d been her best friend for years, and she still worried —he’d tried to talk to her more than once, and although she’d already made her intentions clear, he didn’t seem inclined on following her wishes. She had asked him to leave her alone, because they’d chosen different paths, but he just wouldn’t _let go_ of her; she knew it hurt —of course it did, it hurt her too— and she pitied him, as much as she pitied herself, but she could not make any more excuses for him, she could not pretend anymore: he’d chosen his path, she’d chosen hers, and hers did not involve racists friends that would throw her under the bus if it came down to choosing a side. She deserved better.

The dormitory was asleep when she entered and she made a beeline for her bed, avoiding all the obstacles the previous afternoon of packing had put in her way. School was almost over, in a few days they’d be aboard the Hogwarts Express before they could even spell ‘Expelliarmus’ right. For the first time in years, she couldn’t wait to get out of school, to forget about magic and spend time with her parents and Petunia, to wash the dishes and cook bacon and play football and tend to her mother’s flowers with her own hands. For the first time she felt she was going home, and not leaving. It hurt something awful.

* * *

 

The return home put Lily’s abilities to lie at a test.

It was chaos in the morning, with Alice Prewett and Marlene McKinnon running about the room trying to find their last possessions that still needed packing. When Lily came out of the bathroom, she was almost run over by Mary Macdonald, the quietest of her friends; meanwhile, Alice was lying flat on her stomach beside the bed, reaching underneath it and murmuring about a pair of tights she’d used on her first date with Oliver Gardner and hadn’t seen again since then. Marley had her trunk empty, and all her things on the bed.

“What’s wrong, Marley?” Lily asked.

“I’ve yet to find my brown boots and my necklace, the one with the charms on it…”

“That necklace is now Mary’s,” Lily interrupted, “you gave it to her on the day of your last Quidditch match.”

“I did not!”

“You were drunk on your victory.”

“And you didn’t stop me?”

“Why would I?” Lily laughed, and pecked Marley on the cheek, “It was really funny.”

“You are a mean woman, Lily Evans,” came Alice’s voice from behind them.

They both turned around to see she was still crouched down on the floor. Lily laughed and made her way to her bed, where she had laid the cream dress she planned on wearing. She threw the yellow bathrobe her parents had sent her for Christmas on the bed and buttoned down the dress quickly, before her body got a chance to make her skin raise into goosebumps.

“Aha!” Alice voice startled her.

She turned around just in time to see her friend’s hand raised high in the air with a pair of green tights in them. She could also see the top of her head. Alice’s fringe was all messy, but she didn’t seem to mind as she stood up from the ground and plopped down on the bed.

“I love these stupid tights,” she giggled, and she threw them into her trunk, dust and all still clinging to it.

“Can we focus, please?” Marley whined, “What about my necklace?”

“Lily’s right, Marley, that’s Mary’s now. You should be more careful with your things.”

“You are both horrible friends.”

“That’s what you say,” Lily said, sitting down on the bed to put her shoes on.

When she was done, she put on her school robes over her dress, tied her hair into a ponytail and grabbed her wand and stuffed it into her pocket.

“I’m going down to grab a bite, who’s coming with me?”

Marley shook her head and turned to her bed again.

“I’m still missing my brown boots, you go ahead. I’ll go with Mary later.”

“I’ll go, I’m almost done here anyways,” Alice said.

Lily led the way down the girl’s staircase, with Alice close behind her. They climbed out of the Portrait just as some younger student was getting ready to enter, so they quickly got out of the way and hurried to the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall. The tables weren’t as busy as they’d usually be on a school day, people were still either sleeping or packing, and so Lily and Alice were able to snatch one of the best spots down at the Gryffindor table. They were near everything important: Alice had easy access to the pumpkin juice and the strawberries she always ate with her cereal, and Lily could top her plate with sausages and eggs without worrying about someone stealing all the juiciest pieces.

“Lily, don’t look, but you know who is looking your way.”

“I’m sorry,” Lily said between gritted teeth, “but this time I’ve no idea if you mean Potter or Severus.”

“Oh, righ, sorry. I meant Snape, he’s looking at you all sulkish from the Slytherin table. But don’t look.”

“Wasn’t planning on looking, don’t worry.”

“Good to know you’re still a tough bird, Evans,” came Black’s comment.

Lily looked up to find Sirius Black and Remus Lupin taking a seat beside them. Oliver Gardner was making his way over as well, his blue and bronze tie hanging loose from his neck. Lily thought it was odd he was wearing his school uniform even on the last day, mere hours away from leaving, but knowing Oliver, he had probably just forgotten he was going home. He was an easily distracted boy.

Alice saw her boyfriend coming over too, and she quickly made space between her and Lily for him to sit. That shoved Lily straight into Black’s side, and she felt his elbow squish her breast.

“Fuck, Evans, sorry!” he said, just slightly blushing.

“Scoot over, Black, it hurts.”

She turned to her plate again, but her eyes caught Snape’s, and for a moment she remained frozen in her spot. But just as quickly Sirius began talking, and she was forced to tear her eyes away from him.

“Stop watching him, Carrot Cake”

“That’s the worst alliterated metaphor I’ve ever heard, you twit.”

Remus arched an eyebrow and took a sip of pumpkin while Sirius laughed.

“Well, Evans…”

“Actually, Lily, that was probably one of his best ones, I think,” Remus said.

Sirius threw a grape at his head. Lily rolled her eyes and turned to Alice, but she had forgotten Oliver was between them.

“So, Oliver,” she started, and Sirius and Remus stopped bickering once they saw she wasn’t paying attention to them anymore, “what are your plans for this summer?” she asked somewhat awkwardly. She wanted Oliver to like her, because Alice fancied him so much, but she remembered having spent almost two years thinking he was the most handsome bloke in their year, and that made her a bit uncomfortable around him.

“Practice Quidditch,” he said.

“Nice,” said Remus.

Oliver shrugged.

“You’re a reserve, right?” Sirius asked while he reached for the eggs. “Do you want to be a permanent next year?”

“No, not at all,” Oliver said, “I enjoy Quidditch, but I’m not serious enough about it. I just want to be a better reserve, this year I’ve had to step in more than once and I want to feel I’ll be ready if next year proves to be just like this one. But I don’t want to be a permanent, I’m too busy, I think.”

Sirius nodded.

“I’m practically a permanent player already myself,” Sirius said between a mouthful of waffles, “Julie’s had a rough year with that injury in the shoulder, so I’ve been playing a lot, and she’s graduated this year. Murray says I’ll be the Beater next season, but we’ll be holding tryouts early in the school year because we’ll be needing a Chaser and a Keeper, minimum, and a bunch of young reserves; she’s left strict orders to James about everything he’ll need to do once he’s Captain. We think he’s going to get the position.”

“Of course he is,” chimed in Alice, smiling sweetly at Sirius.

Oliver nodded, and turned back to his girlfriend.

“What about you, Lily?” Remus asked. “What are your plans for this summer?”

“Not much. Cokesworth’s a bit dull. I’ll probably help at my Grandmother’s flower shop from time to time.”

“Your grandmother has a flower shop?” Sirius asked, laughing, “And your parents named you and your sister Lily and Petunia?”

Lily glowered.

“How do you know of Petunia?” asked Marlene from behind them.

They all raised their eyes to see their blonde friend take a sit on the Gryffindor table, and Mary, who had arrived with Marlene, followed her lead and took a sit next to Remus. The shy girl smiled at him and blushed incredibly red when he returned her smile. Mary was sweet, with her heart-shaped face and the dark hair she tucked behind her ear as she averted her eyes from Lupin.

Marley took the pumpkin juice from Sirius’ hands.

“Evans and I are friends,” he said at last, “we chat.”

“Friends,” Marley deadpanned, “you chat.”

“We chat,” he confirmed.

Marley turned to Lily and raised an eyebrow.

“You chat with him.”

“We chat.”

“You chat with him about your sister.”

“Just once. And it was a nice chat.”

“People don’t have nice chats with Sirius Black, Lily,” Marley scoffed. “No offense, Black, it’s just that you have the emotional capacity of a dead slug.”

“No offense taken, McKinnon.”

Alice’s giggles stopped the argument.

“What’s wrong with Prewett?” asked Sirius.

“Nothing, sorry,” she said, “it’s just your face at Marley’s insult, it was priceless.”

Alice couldn’t control her next giggle, and soon she was laughing openly, and Mary had joined her, although more quietly.

“Girls, stop,” Lily said, “you’re being mean. Sirius and I had a perfectly nice chat. Didn’t we?”

Marlene arched one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

“You call him Sirius, now?”

“Just today, because you’re being mean when he was nice.”

“Okay, fine. You had a chat with Black, I can find that perfectly normal.”

“Please, don’t,” Mary murmured, and they all turned to her.

“Why, Macdonald, I wasn’t aware you hated me so.”

Mary blushed, but shrugged apologetically before answering, “I don’t. It’s just that, you know, in Third Year Lily once wrote a beautiful eulogy on the art of wishing to hit you upside the head with a stick. You could say that with the passing of the years, it’s become our dormitory’s manifesto.”

Remus snorted into his pumpkin juice. The liquid fell down the sides of his mouth as he fought to keep from spitting it out.

“Evans, is that so? Is it true?”

“Of course,” Lily said, turning to Sirius with a frown, “it was truly beautiful. Why would Mary say otherwise?”

Marlene and Alice couldn’t keep their laughter to themselves. Mary giggled.

“You wound me, Evans.”

Lily laughed contently, the giggles escaping her throat without her permission, but filling her with warmth. Sirius could be a good friend. They would forget each other during the summer, but for the few hours remaining, he would be a good friend.

She had finished her breakfast and, although she was enjoying herself, she needed to get back to her room. Like a ritual, she checked her trunk at least five times before leaving the school for good. She looked around the Great Hall. _He is looking at me still_. Her stomach felt tight and hot, and she knew what would happen if she left now.

“Is anyone finished yet?”

They all looked at her. Her cheeks flushed.

“Yeah,” said Remus, “I think I am.”

“Me too,” added Alice, patting Oliver on the shoulder and reaching forward to peck him on the cheek. “See you in the train?”

Oliver nodded, “I’ll make sure to come see you.”

Lily stood and grabbed a waffle from the plate.

“Marley,” she said, but the blonde interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll pick something for the journey.”

“Waffles,” Lily said shaking the one in her hand, “you always forget to grab enough waffles.”

Marlene nodded.

“You lot steal food for the train ride?” asked Remus as they left the Hall.

Alice began to say something, but Lily wasn’t paying any attention. How could she? _Is he standing up? Oh dear Lord, he is, isn’t he?_

“—so Marley gets hungry and _Mary_ of all people—”

“He’s standing up, Ally.”

She wasn’t the only one who’d noticed; all around _him_ his friends were looking back and forth between Lily and Snape. Lily felt a warm, gentle hand clasp around her wrist; too big to be Alice’s, she found Remus’ concerned eyes looking right at her when she tore her eyes from her old childhood friend.

“Let’s go.”

Remus’ legs were rather long, if she stopped to think about it. He was probably the tallest boy in their year; he had started to grow back in Fourth Year, and he hadn’t stopped since. Lily had been one of the tallest when she’d arrived at Hogwarts— tall and bony and stick-thin, much like Petunia— but she had stopped growing so much once she’d reached fourteen and her body had started to curve softly over her bones, and she had bled for the first time. She had hated being tall back then, but she missed it now, she envied people who could reach cupboards and shelves without magic or ladders. And Remus, with his long legs, had to pull her through the halls, because every step he took, translated to two of hers.

“Lily!”

They didn’t stop. She wouldn’t run, she wouldn’t humiliate herself. But it was hard to resist the instinct that told her to flee, to ever forget that she once loved a little boy with greasy hair and purple arms.

“Lily, please!”

“Not now, Snivellus,” Alice shouted over her shoulder, wand safely secured in her hand, hidden by her sleeve. A piece of flaxen hair had fallen over her hair and was sticking to her lipstick, making her look as dangerous as she was. But Severus was not discouraged, and he ran the few steps that still separated them to block their path.

“Lily, please, hear me out.”

“We’re over, Sev. There’s nothing you can say to me that will make me forgive you.”

“But I am sorry, Lily, I truly am. I never meant to call you _that_. But Potter and his cronies—”

“No, Severus. It was you, all your doing. And if you don’t need help from filthy mudbloods, then you certainly don’t need their forgiveness either, or their friendship. Don’t you have to return to your Death Eater friends? What will they think of you if you continue to breathe in my presence? Go, before I pollute your lungs with my dirty blood.”

There was a part of her that still loved him, that could still identify every crook and corner of the castle where they had shared a moment. And she remembered him, in that moment, like he used to be when they first meat, small and gangly and dwarfed by his strange clothes —back before Hogwarts, back before blood mattered. God, but how she missed those days. But they were lost to her, and she felt a hole forming in the space where her heart used to rest.


End file.
